


Every Time

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 13 Inspired [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 13x18, Brothers, Burning Bodies, Cleaning Up, Coda, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back to Business, Heart-to-Heart Talks, M/M, Motivational Speeches, References to Fandom Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 06:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14302623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: It seems like every step forward is another two steps back. Each member of Team Free Will feels lost, but thankfully they still have each other. And it's up to them to lead each other out of the darkness. Because when the chips are down, your family is always there to pick you up. Every time.





	Every Time

**Author's Note:**

> It was a good episode - felt a little disjointed - but at least Dean made it out of the portal. Hope you enjoy!

            He needed something to do. To keep him busy and his hands full and his mind… Research was asking too much – his focus shot and lost back in the Apocalypse World along with the others. Sam didn’t even ask him – walking towards the archives without a single glance back. There’s not much that could be said anyway. Anything Dean said would have only hurt, his nerves still too frayed and raw from it all. And Sam… he recognized that empty space in his brother’s eyes. All he could give him was time alone. There was always later.

            Dean – he can’t be alone.

            “C’mon,” he says to Cas, “Help me move them.” Cas nods, moving with him towards the nearby bodies: the demons that fell in battle. Dean struggles to lift one, while Cas has the other two by their wrists, dragging them towards the hunter.

            “Where would you like them?”

            “Bring ‘em outside?” Dean suggests, “We can pile them up and burn the bodies?” Cas nods, and turns around towards the stairs. He pulls the dead weight behind him as if they were two well-dressed Hefty bags. Dean feels like the demon in his arms weight more than a Baby Grand.

            He’s halfway up the stairs when he bumps into Cas. His angel is empty-handed, and tilts his head.

            “Do you need help?”

            “N-no,” Dean says, wheezing, “I got – I got this. You should, uh… go get the rest.” Cas nods, stepping past him to collect the others that were thrown from Gabriel’s wrath. Dean breaks into a full sweat carrying his new friend out the door and towards the pile forming outside. It gets harder, once past the Bunker’s entrance. He nearly trips, his legs tangling with that of his new friend’s.

            ‘ _Come on… Winchester_ ,’ he thinks, grunting, ‘ _You can… you can do this. It’s just a stupid demon… you can do **this**._ ’ Dean feels his rage spiking once more with each step he takes. The demon’s body shouldn’t be this heavy, but the hunter doesn’t remember ever having to carry this much weight. At the pile, he snaps. He lifts the corpse and hurls it at the others, his shoulder firing in protest.

            “Son of a –“ he groans, hand to his wound. His steps falter backwards, and Dean finds himself flat on his ass.

            “Dean!”

            Cas runs up to him, kicking up dust and gravel as he slides to his side. His hand covers Dean’s over his shoulder, while his other hovers near Dean’s face. “You’re hurt,” he says, blue eyes flitting across Dean’s pained face. The hunter focuses on his eyes, trying to distract from the wasps that are making nest in his shoulder. Cas’s fingers twitch near Dean’s temple. He asks, “May I?”

            “When do you need to ask?”

            Cas rolls his eyes, but huffs fondly. He lays his palm flat against Dean’s face – a different approach from his usual two fingers. Dean bites back the soft gasp, instead choosing to let out a slow, shaky breath.

            ‘ _The safer option_ …’

            He feels the grace pour through him, how his shoulder knits itself back together. The hot, sharp stabbing pain numbs to a warm ache – the kind that comes from a hard day’s work. Dean can see Cas calling his power back, his eyes shutting off to his usual blue. His hand pulls away a beat after that.

            “I’ll finish here,” Cas says, “Sit.” Dean tries to push himself up, but Cas’s hand still holds tight to his shoulder. His angel pushes him back down, “ _Sit_.” He doesn’t try it again. Instead, Dean watches Cas drag the last two bodies over. Cas arranges them as best he could before stepping away. With the flick of his wrist, the first demon catches flame.

            Dean focuses on that: hypnotized by the fire. How it trails along the suit jacket, jumping from body to body. How it eats away at the skin, melting the bodies into one. How warm he feels as the fire grows and grows until it roars in front of him.

            “I’m sorry, Dean.”

            The hunter turns his head slightly, where Cas sits next to him. His knees are bent, and his hands hang loosely between them. Dean raises a brow.

            “What for?”

            “Being away?” Cas starts, “Not being there to join you in the other world… to bring back Jack and Mary… not being able to convince Gabriel to stay –“

            “Whoa, whoa, Cas don’t – don’t beat yourself up over this,” Dean says, chuckling, “That’s s’posed to be _my_ job.”

            “But, Dean I –“

            “No, Cas,” Dean stops him, “You did all that you could. S’why I wanted you here and not… not there.” He swallows around the heart-shaped lump in his throat. His angel doesn’t look convinced.

            “But I could have had your back,” Cas continues, “Obviously Ketch did not.”

            “He actually proved to be more helpful than we thought,” Dean admits, “Besides… not like I wouldn’t have gotten hurt over there with you. Would have been throwing myself left right center into every shot to make sure you wouldn’t get hit.”

            “Very noble,” Cas snorts, “But also very stupid.”

            “Wouldn’t be me if it wasn’t a bit of both.”

            “That is true,” Cas says, “Still… my mind would have been more at ease if I was there… with you.”

            Dean frowns, shifting in discomfort. “If you were,” he says, “You wouldn’t have gotten the chance to reunite with Gabriel.” His words have the opposite affect, Cas breaking their gaze and looking back out into the fire.

            “And what a reunion,” Cas grumbles, “Helping him return to full power only to leave us in our hour of need… probably back in Monte Carlo with his porn stars.” He exhales sharply, wringing his hands together. “He just… he just left. Like always. Like all of them.”

            Dean inches closer, his hand edging around his angel’s personal space. “Like who?”

            “My family,” he shrugs, “It seems like every time I think the angels… my brothers and sisters… that they might finally be on my side… my hopes are dashed even before they can take flight. Why does this keep happening?”

            Cas’s shoulders hunch in on themselves, and Dean can see the normally clear blue eyes glass over with unshed tears. Dean crosses the difference, taking Cas’s hands in his, forcing him to look at him.

            “They’re a bunch of assholes, Cas,” Dean says, “They got their heads so far up their feathers, they can’t think straight. It’s their loss that they don’t want you, ‘specially since you’re ready to give them so many chances. You still have us, though.”

            “Yes,” Cas agrees, rapidly shifting towards annoyance, “Although your track record is not as clean as theirs.” Dean feels heat creep up his neck, but holds firm to Cas’s hands.

            “I’m… I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says, looking away from his angel’s piercing gaze, “You wanted to be there… to fight with me. But that’s why… that’s why I couldn’t wait. I needed to go while you weren’t there.”

            “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

            “You’re always ready to follow me no matter what Cas,” Dean yells, “Always… always there by my side even if it gets you killed. I just got you back… that place… that place just reminds me of all it took from me. And even though you’re here, you weren’t. And that _hurt_. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to risk it.”

            “And you?” Cas asks, “You were willing to go even if it might have killed you? Or trapped with no way home? What would I have done if you did not come back in time?”

            “Carry on, Cas,” Dean says, “You and Sam. Between the two of you… you wouldn’t have needed me. S’not like I did much with the time I had there…”

            “You can be so… _frustrating_.”

            Dean turns back, eyes wide at the pure force and _grace_ interwoven into Cas’s voice. His angels eyes glow bright, and he’s clutching at Dean’s hand like a life raft on a stormy sea.

            “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you didn’t return. Or Sam… Dean, don’t let this one misstep define you –“

            “It’s not just one, Cas!” Dean talks over him, “There’s been so many… it has to be me. There’s no other –“

            “No, Dean,” Cas stops him. Dean feels Cas’s grace again, trailing up his body like static, buzzing a sweet hum under his skin. Dean lets it wash over him, dredging up the bad feelings in his heart and pushing them far away. Tearing them down so they don’t sit there, crushing his soul. He sighs and leans into his angel.

            “You mean so much to me. To all of us. You say you’ve made mistakes, and you might think they’re all horrible and unforgiveable. But look – we’re still here. I’m here. Because we care about you, and there’s probably little you can do to make us stop caring. Please, don’t wallow in your burdens. Share their weight, so we can help you lift them.”

            Dean shudders, the grace dancing up his spine, and tickling the base of his skull. His eyes fall shut, overcome with the pure _truth_ Cas is threading into him. The grace still pulsing throughout Dean’s system making each of Cas’s words shine like stars on a night deep in the country.

            “If I do that,” Dean whispers, voice rough, “You gotta… you gotta do the same. Two way street.”

            “We’re in this together,” Cas agrees, “I’d do anything for you.”

            “Same here.” He shivers, more from the breeze this time. Cas pulls away, his eyes returning to their normal, but still somehow ethereal shade.

            “You should go in,” Cas tells him, “I’ll make sure the fire’s out.” Dean nods, standing on unsure footing. He walks back in a haze, barely noticing the slight differences – the Bunker’s unnatural lighting, the central heater, and the musty smell of ash. Dean comes back to himself when he notices Sam at one of the tables in the front room.

            He looks up at him for a beat before returning to his book. Dean recognizes Sam’s posture, and knows that no matter how hard he stares, he’s not taking in a thing.

            ‘ _Share the weight_ …’

            Dean strides over to Sam, taking the seat opposite him. This time the younger Winchester doesn’t look up.

            “Talk to me.”

            That gets the reaction he’s looking for. Sam startles, the book slipping through lax fingers.

            “What?”

            “Tell me your feelings,” Dean starts, “You look like you’ve just been through the emotional wringer. And I don’t know what I can do to make you feel better because I don’t know what you’re thinking. So… I wanna know.” He folds his hands together, “Talk.”

            Sam watches him, wary. But he doesn’t stay silent for long. Dean can see the dam behind his brother’s eyes threatening to burst, and his presence pushes it along.

            “It’s… Gabriel,” Sam admits, “I… I really thought he would stay y’know? He seemed… he seemed different. Like he might have been done running and ready to get back in the game. I mean, I thought we were finally getting somewhere with him.” He chuckles weakly, the end sounding wet to Dean’s ears.

            “He really reminded me of myself, y’know,” Sam continues, “That’s why I thought… it might be different. That if I could get him on our side, it would be another win – and we’d be one step closer to saving the world. I spent so long running, and finally I felt good about where we are and what we were doing. And now… he’s gone and thrown me back into this limbo I thought I had left behind! Are we really doing what’s right or is the only answer to… to run?”

            “Now you stop that,” Dean says, voice low, “You and I both know that running doesn’t solve a problem – just keeps you from having to face it. Gabe’s actions are not a reflection of you. You… I’m so damned _proud_ of you, Sam. Yes, it’s up to us to save the world. And to see you so happy and sure of yourself… it makes me feel like what we’re doing is the right thing, too. Don’t let one scaredy-cat archangel upend your entire life.”

            Sam fights the smile that’s threatening to spill over, but Dean’s gaze brings it forward. He looks down at his book, and flips the pages back and forth, searching within those words for any he wants to say. Someone speaks up before he could respond.

            “Dean is right,” Cas says, walking towards the brothers, “Sam, you prove time and time again that no matter what knocks you down, you power through. Your ability to… to always keep fighting, it inspires me. And you know that no matter the battle, you never have to do it alone?” He rests his hand on Sam’s shoulder, smiling as Sam reaches up to it in solidarity. Cas smiles and pulls away, moving towards Dean to sit next to him.

            “This is a nice turn around,” Sam says, “The mood, that is.”

            “Maybe it’s the dead bodies,” Dean jokes, “Or lack thereof?”

            “Could be,” Sam laughs, “Y’know, I thought you’d really let this get to you, Dean.”

            “It almost did,” Dean admits, “But… sometimes you need to be reminded that you aren’t alone.” He smiles at Cas, his heart skipping every other beat, “And that whenever the odds were against us, we proved that the Winchesters always came out on top.” He winks, “All three of us. Every time.”

            Sam watches the two, smiling sadly. ‘ _If only I could have an angel like that_ …’

            “Anyway,” Dean says, turning back to his brother, “We need to get to work. What books ya got there?”

            “Take your pick.” Dean grabs the top two and hands one to Cas. They all turn back to their research, letting the quiet speak volumes.

            Sam doesn’t say anything when Dean’s hand slips under the table. Nor when Cas’s joins it moments later. He prays, and hopes it’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Did I make y'all feel a little less hopeless? Let me know! Drop a kudos and/or a comment!


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